


Dragon Hunt

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Creature Castiel (Supernatural), Dragon Castiel (Supernatural), Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventually ;), For now they're more like reluctant allies, Knight Dean Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -Dean Winchester, a former knight fallen from grace and nowadays just a guy trying to get by somehow, sets out to slay a dragon that is believed to be hiding in a nearby cave. But what seems to be just an ordinary mission for him, a means to make a bit of money and have some decent food and shelter for a while, turns into something he never expected.Because he meets a gorgeous man and his life will never be the same again.+(Loosely inspired by the movie "Dragonheart")-
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 54
Kudos: 181





	Dragon Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> -
> 
> Hey, guys!
> 
> So, this is the prequel to a longer fic I've been meaning to write _for ages_!
> 
> And now I was suddenly presented with the prompt "Fleeting Flame" by my Discord server group and I found myself so incredibly inspired I wrote this entire piece more or less in one sitting!
> 
> So yeah, there will definitely be more of this >.<  
> Because I've been in love with this idea for years now and I won't let this one go until it's gonna be finished eventually!
> 
> So if you'll end up enjoying the premise, just give me a shoutout :D
> 
> -

The cave is located right behind a cascading waterfall.

Dean probably would have missed it entirely and just passed by without none the wiser if it hadn't been for Impala suddenly getting all agitated seemingly out of nowhere, the mare's neighing unsteady and nervous as she stares at the small river with big eyes. Dean follows her gaze automatically, knowing very well that her instincts grew quite attuned to the dangers of their everyday life over the course of the last couple of years. She notices even subtle shifts in the air and her sense of smell is not easily challenged.

So when she stops at the riverbank and becomes all tense Dean knows he's at the right place.

A fleeting smile flickers over Dean's features as he climbs down and draws his sword. He's slain quite a few dragons in his life and it still gets his blood pumping like nothing else. He never knows what to expect, each specimen different from the previous, and he's doing the job long enough to know that underestimating your enemy is the biggest mistake you can make.

It's in most cases also your last mistake. Ever.

He takes a deep breath and approaches the waterfall while every single nerve ending in his body is tingling. He's quite aware there are easier and far less riskier ways to make a living, but for a man like him, someone who always has to keep at least one eye open, the options are still limited.

Sure, he could try his luck as a farmer somewhere deep in the middle of nowhere, however, the prospect of either dying of boredom or eventually finding yourself either freezing to death due to a merciless winter or maybe just starving there all alone because Dean knows basically nothing about farming whatsoever surely doesn't look all that inviting.

No, he'd rather fight a dragon every other month and get people to pay him for that.

Dean tightens the grip on the hilt of his sword and steps closer to the waterfalls, preparing himself for anything that might happen. Soon enough he spots an opening behind the water, the entrance to a hidden cave.

Impala's instincts have obviously been right yet again.

Dean licks his lips and shoots a last glance at her over the shoulder – which could very well be _the_ last, for all they know – before entering the cave.

It's a slippery and wet affair all around, but Dean keeps his focus sharp as he analyzes his surroundings. There is nothing much to see at first, just a single large room without any real markings. Damp and cold, but surprisingly bright thanks to the sunlight falling inside exactly in the right angle. Combined with the waterfall it leaves the cave in a quite beautiful play of light.

For a short moment Dean even feels something like serenity watching it.

But then he suddenly hears a noise coming from his right and he abruptly remembers his reason for being here as he raises his sword and switches into fighting mode. His senses razor sharp, his reflexes on full alert.

He's is ready to slay, to combat, to kill, to get the upper hand, no matter how unlikely the odds are. Because he is the best in what he does and he'd be damned if he wouldn't end up with that sweet money the villagers promised him for the dragon's head.

Dean narrows his eyes, his attention grasped by some movements in the darkness. He registers a shape in the shadows, coming closer. Apparently not all impressed by the large sword in Dean's hand.

Dean braces himself.

And finds himself rather stunned when he notices the shadow being way too short to be a dragon.

Granted, he encountered small dragons before, barely as tall as a horse, but the figure approaching him right now is clearly not one of those. It's about the size of a man.

And, as it turns out a second later, it _is_ actually a man.

A man staying in a cave behind a waterfall.

Dean stares at him. At his glistening skin, at his eyes that shine impossibly blue in the sunlight, at his mess of a hair. And at his utter lack of clothes.

Dean has never been a prude, not by a long shot, but he certainly didn't expect to meet a breathtaking and very naked man right in the middle of his dragon hunt. He chokes up at the sight, at the man's huge display of skin, at his muscles flexing with every motion, at his beefy thighs tightening as he searches for a stable stance on the uneven ground.

Dean feels heat rushing through his body and for a second there everything stops existing beside that guy's glorious appearance. Dean actually wants to whimper right into his face, embarrassment be damned.

And it takes him a shamefully long time to remember the situation at hand.

“You, uh …” Dean blinks a few times and wills his throat not to seize up. _It's not the first time you've seen an attractive man, jeez_ , he scolds himself. “You shouldn't – um, I mean, you shouldn't be here. It's dangerous in these parts.”

The man tilts his head.

And it might be the most adorable thing Dean has ever witnessed.

 _Damn_.

“Dangerous?” the man asks.

In a ridiculously deep voice that is just sin itself.

 _Double damn_.

“I – I, yeah,” Dean stammers, trying way too hard not to ogle too much. “There … _dragon_! … There's been a dragon spotted around here.”

The man looks at him.

“Hhhmm,” he says. As though that is just an interesting piece of information.

“I could – I could give you a lift,” Dean proposes, gesturing at the general direction where he left Impala behind. “My horse … I mean, I could get you out of here.”

Dean can't help wincing at his complete lack of eloquence. He vaguely remembers being smooth and articulate, but somehow these talents vanished into thin air at some point. Most likely the exact moment this stranger stepped into the light and blinded Dean with his brightness.

“You want to get me out of here?” the man wonders. He sounds genuinely confused. “You want … to _protect_ me?”

“Yes,” Dean states with emphasis.

“But if I'm correct you're here to kill me,” the man points out. “I don't understand how this makes any sense.”

Dean frowns.

What?

“What?”

The man steps closer, his gaze getting even more intense. “You are Dean Winchester, are you not?”

Something clenches in Dean's chest and this time it isn't pleasant in the slightest. On instinct he grips his sword harder again as he studies the stranger with wariness.

“How do you know my name?”

The man smiles. It's slight, barely even there, but it sends a shiver down Dean's spine.

“I heard so many stories,” he tells him. “About you, Dean Winchester. First Knight of King Michael. So brave and courageous and beloved. So many people adored you. And then you failed. You failed them all.”

Dean can't help a flinch.

“The king, murdered by his own brother in his sleep, just when you stayed in the room next door,” the stranger says. “Lucifer ascending to the throne while you were unable to find enough evidence for that man's gruesome fratricide. And utterly helpless when Lucifer grew paranoid pretty soon and saw conspiracy everywhere. When he started to suspect even his own son of plotting treason, a mere boy of eleven years. You tried to protect him, but in the end it was your own brother who took the boy and fled with him, never to be seen again until this very day.” The man pauses while he assesses Dean with a bone-chilling scrutiny. “How long has that been now? Almost ten years, I believe, am I right?”

Dean feels utterly cold all of a sudden, the spark of attraction and interest turning into ugly suspicion as he glares at the man.

At this stranger who knows way too much.

“ _Who_ are you?” he hisses. “And how do you know all of this?”

Admittedly, lots of it is actually public knowledge, much to Dean's dismay, but certain things this guy mentioned aren't even remotely widespread. At least only a few people ever learned that it's been Sam that grabbed Jack one night and ran away with the boy. The majority of the population has no idea what happened to their prince, not even after all these years.

Dean swallows and tries to suppress the by now familiar dark sensation of longing whenever he thinks about Sam. His own brother who only found time for a quick goodbye and a tight hug that last night before he disappeared.

It's been so long Dean forgot the sound of his voice.

“ _How_ do you know all of that?” Dean presses through his teeth as he lifts his sword again. “ _Tell me_!”

The man merely shrugs, completely unfazed by the blade pointed at him.

“I've always been fascinated by stories,” he explains. “Stories about kings and knights and nobility. And your tale is truly captivating, Dean Winchester.”

Dean scowls so hard the muscles in his face begin to hurt.

“My life is not a fucking story!” he exclaims. “So how dare you –?”

“You're right, I apologize,” the stranger cuts in. “I meant no disrespect. I'm sorry what happened to you.”

He sounds genuine enough.

But Dean is still majorly creeped out.

“Who _the hell_ are you?” he demands to know. “Do you just sit around in caves, all naked, and wait for some knights to stumble upon you? Is that it?”

The man blinks. “I just heard that you're here. And that you're looking for me.” His gaze roams over Dean's entire body. “And I have to confess I got intrigued. So I stayed and wondered whether you would be able to find me.”

Dean stares at him.

What the fuck was this guy even talking about?

“I was not looking _for you_ ,” he growls. “I'm looking for the dragon that's –”

But then he freezes.

Because he suddenly notices the bright light in the man's eyes.

Which is _not_ caused by the sun.

His heart rate picks up spectacularly as his brain suddenly connects the dots. Impala getting all anxious about this cave. Dean totally expecting to find a huge and vicious dragon inside and instead seeing himself confronted with an odd man who seems perfectly happy to stay nude in a wet and cold cave.

That stranger is seriously not some random man who lost his clothes somewhere along the way.

No, all of a sudden Dean can't help registering the energy within the cave. The magic swirling in the air. And the smell of smoke clinging to the walls.

The dragon.

Right in front of him.

The entire time.

Dean curses underneath his breath as his entire body tenses up. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so _blind_?

Just one look at a beautiful man and he suddenly threw every caution out in the wind?

He certainly has been taught better than that.

“Fuck!” he growls, staring at the man, at the _dragon_ , in front of him with wide eyes.

Because he actually never met a shapeshifting dragon before. Of course he heard of them, many times, considering they're deemed to be the most powerful of them all, vicious and devious and brimming with magic. Everyone throughout Dean's life had told him to stay far away from them if he valued his continued existence, to just run and never look back.

And now here he is, facing the very thing he has been warned about so often, and finds himself unable to do anything.

The stubborn part of himself wants to ignore all the alarm bells ringing inside his head and just attack. Fight and cut and slay and prove them all wrong. The rational part of himself, however, urges him to flee. To save himself as long as he's still got the chance.

In the end he does neither.

He simply gapes at this gorgeous and deadly creature while his whole body refuses to move even a little bit. He is frozen on the spot and he's pretty sure it's not the dragon's magic's doing somehow but only the result of his own stupidity.

 _Damn_.

“What do you intend to do with me?” Dean presses through his teeth and tries to look at least marginally confident. “Were you just waiting around for me to show up so you can play with your dinner before eating me alive?”

And he walked right into it.

 _Great_.

The dragon, however, merely frowns at the statement. “Why would I want to eat you?”

Dean isn't really sure what to do with the confusion directed at him. “Well, uh …” He squirms around. “'Cause that what you do … dragons, I mean …”

The dragon seems to become even more puzzled by that. “You believe we eat humans?” he wonders. “But you're just skin and bones and muscles. I can't imagine you would taste any good. Can you?”

Dean is so thrown off by the question that he simply stays silent and probably looks like an utter fool in the process.

Eventually, the dragon appears to have mercy with him. “But to come back to your initial inquiry, no, I didn't wait around here to _eat_ you.” He pronounces the word as though it's the most absurd thing anyone could ever think of. “I only wanted to talk.”

Dean narrows his eyes in suspicion. “About what?”

“I think we could help each other out.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. Of all the things he expected to hear today, _this_ has not been one of it.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

The dragon steps closer and Dean can't help becoming entranced by the motion. His graceful movements, the flexing of his muscles, his skin so perfect Dean is unable to keep himself from wondering what would happen if he'd lick it.

Because at the end of the day he is just a weak moron.

“May I ask about your plan?” the dragon wonders, once again quirking his head to the side in that very distracting way. “What did you intend to do today? After finding that evil and wicked dragon?”

Dean snorts while forcing himself to focus on the issue at hand. “Kill you and get the money. Easy as that.”

“And after that?”

Dean pauses for a moment, not really sure where this is going. “Um, live my life, I guess.”

“And after that? When your money runs out?”

Dean begins to fidget awkwardly underneath that intense gaze. “Find myself another dragon to kill.”

“Easy as that?”

“Easy as that.”

The dragon makes a thoughtful noise at that and studies Dean even more intently, his eyes so piercing Dean is actually surprised they don't burn a hole in his skin.

“But what if I told you I'm the last of my kind?” the dragon says, his voice steady. “What if I told you that after killing me you would not be able to find another dragon again? Your source of income, gone.”

Dean stares at him for a minute.

And then he scoffs.

“You're _not_ the last of your kind,” he insists.

“Very well, I might not be,” the dragon agrees, clearly amused by Dean's almost offended tone. “But you and others like you have been hunting us for decades now. It became a sport among you, a chance to prove yourself. To impress noble ladies. To get admiration and devotion. And so you hunt and kill and never consider that dragons are actually a quite rare species to begin with.”

Dean hates to admit it, but in the last few years it's indeed been harder and harder to find one to slay. It's been nearly ten months since he met his last, to be honest. He had to take on some odd jobs here and there to get by after his money ran out way too early.

So is there some truth to what this dragon is saying?

“So you're going extinct?” he asks, dread filling his entire being.

“I wouldn't say that,” the dragon concedes. “But many of my kind grew tired of being constantly hunted and retreated deep into the mountains. Where no human would ever be able to reach them.”

Dean can't help thinking of those huge mountains north of their kingdom. They're vast and so high you can barely see the top even on a cloudless day and it's easy to imagine being absolutely safe there from any human contact whatsoever.

“I might very well be the last one around here,” the dragon says. “So what happens after you kill me? Do you find another career path? You, the knight fallen from grace?”

Dean glares hard at the last statement.

“I'll get by,” he hisses. “I always do.”

He has no other choice, after all. Not if he wants to live long enough to see Sam again.

“But what if I told you I can help you earn all the money you desire and more?” the dragon says, his voice dipping a little low and suddenly morphing into something freaking tempting Dean can't help leaning in a bit.

“What are you saying?” he asks.

“How about we join forces?” the dragon suggests. As if that's the most normal thing to propose. “We put up a show. I 'terrorize' and you 'kill' me?”

The air-quotes he uses are almost adorable.

“You get the money after a job well done,” he continues. “And after that we move on and do it all over again at some other place.”

Dean's eyes widen.

“Are you saying …?” He blinks rapidly. “You want to _con_ people?”

The dragon shrugs. “Why not? After all, I heard there are a lot of greedy people out there who deserve to get the money they actually didn't even earn to begin with taken away from them. It would only be just, don't you think?”

For a long minute Dean is way too shell-shocked to even move a muscle.

But eventually he manages a croaky, “How the fuck did you even come up with that?”

The dragon seems impossibly pleased with himself as he says, “I've read something similar in an old book the other day. It seemed rather intriguing.”

Dean stares some more.

“So you wanna join forces with an enemy you just met … 'cause you read it in a book once?”

This must be the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. And he encountered _a lot_ of ridiculous things in his life so far.

“You're insane!” he declares. “Absolutely insane!”

The dragon's smile vanishes. “Why is that?”

Dean doesn't even know where to begin with that.

“What would _you_ get out this arrangement?” he eventually settles on. “I mean, apart from deceiving people and obviously having a field day with it?”

The dragon comes closer again and suddenly he appears so ethereal it takes Dean's breath away. He seems to glow from the inside, a being so powerful and majestic it could destroy him with a single blink of his eyes, and Dean shudders, both in fear and – even though he'd rather die than admit it – pleasure.

There is no doubt that this man is way more than _just_ _a man_. Which is further proven by some fleeting flames running through his wild hair which make him look so supernatural Dean's knee start to tremble.

Dean can't help wondering what his true form must look like. While talking with the villagers one of the witnesses claimed the dragon to be at least twice as big as their already quite enormous town house. Back then Dean figured this exaggeration, but now, with this being consuming him whole just with his aura, he suddenly believes it to be true.

“I'm curious,” the dragon says. “About humanity.”

Dean takes a moment to shake himself out of his thoughts.

“Uh, what?”

“My end of the deal,” the dragon emphasizes. “You get your money and I get to know humanity.”

Once again Dean is far too baffled to react at first.

“You wanna …?” He creases his forehead in bewilderment. “I don't understand –”

“Humanity has fascinated me from the very beginning,” the dragon explains, actually sounding wistful about it. “I watched them from afar, enthralled and growing more and more eager to learn more about them. But whenever I tried to approach them they avoided me.”

Dean can't really say he's surprised. A strange man coming near, acting all weird and being all naked. He probably looked like a lunatic who just escaped an asylum or something.

“ _Why_ do you wanna get to know humanity, though?” Dean asks. “I mean, we're awful most of the time, and we're killing your kind and forcing them to retreat to the mountains, and – I dunno, we lie and deceive and –”

“I have my reasons,” the dragon says cryptically, making it undoubtedly clear that he doesn't want to deepen that topic any further.

Fine. Dean can respect boundaries.

And yet …

“Why me, though?” he wonders, more confused than ever over that simple fact. “I mean, I came here to _kill_ you. That's not the greatest basis for a solid partnership, don't you think?”

The dragon's gaze gets painfully intense again.

“I can't really explain it myself,” he admits. “But it feels … like there is a profound bond between us.”

Huh.

Probably some magic hocus pocus that whispers some insane things into the guy's ear.

“You're mad, man,” Dean insists. “Utterly mad.”

But he can't keep himself from feeling intrigued as well.

Hunting dragons may pay well, but it's a dangerous line of work. To actually not have to worry if he'll come out of all of this alive while simultaneously still getting paid well sounds quite nice for a change.

Not to mention that the dragon is right. There _are_ many people out there who deserve to be relieved of their money.

“How about we make a test run first?” the guy proposes. “To see how it works out.”

Dean knows he's utterly stupid for even considering this. Apart from the fact that working with a dragon to begin with is just borderline crazy he can't just bring such a dangerous creature right into the middle of some unsuspecting village. He might lash out, perhaps even unintentionally, and people might end up dead because of it.

“I can't –”

“I won't kill humans,” the dragons says, obviously either having read Dean's mind (a terrifying thought) or just perceptive enough to notice the doubt in Dean's eyes. “I never have and I never will. You have my word.”

Dean shouldn't give this much weight, but at the same time he used to be a knight and such promises meant something important to him. And no matter how hard he tried he was never able to shut that down.

Maybe they really can test it out at first. If Dean keeps a close eye on the dragon and just stays careful the entire time –

Maybe …

“You're still insane, my friend,” he says with a scoff. Because this is preposterous. Absurd. A disaster waiting to happen.

But then he remembers the money the villagers promised him for a dead dragon and he highly doubts he would be able to actually defeat this particular specimen in a fair fight. He's radiating so much power and strength Dean wouldn't have been surprised if the creature would have ended up melting the knight's sword with a single lift of his brow.

Yeah, Dean is pretty sure he wouldn't stand a chance. At least not under the conditions they're currently having.

But if they would actually go and con these people, just put on a show with Dean 'killing' that vicious dragon, for all the people to witness, then that money would be his in a heartbeat.

And he hates to admit it, but he actually needs it rather desperately.

It surely would take a huge weight off his shoulders.

But still …

“What even is your name?” Dean wonders eventually, suddenly feeling embarrassed for not remembering that little detail way sooner.

The dragon smiles at the question. As though Dean asking about his name means he managed to win him over.

“I'm Castiel,” he introduces himself.

Huh.

Castiel.

An odd name for an odd guy.

But at the same time also a gorgeous name for a gorgeous guy.

So all in all, it fits.

“Okay, Cas, first things first,” Dean states as he lets his gaze wander over the dragon's body and tries to look completely unaffected by the vast display of naked skin. “Because this is important. _Essential_.”

Castiel leans forward, sensing the tide tentatively turning in his favor. “What is it?”

Dean takes a deep breath.

And another one.

“Are you familiar with the purpose of clothes?”

Castiel blinks, obviously taken aback by the question.

And then he squints at the human in front of him in utter confusion before he looks down on himself like he has no idea what is wrong with his appearance.

While Dean can't do anything else but sigh in exasperation at that response.

Yes, this is _downright insane_!

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and would like to have more, just scream at me and subscribe 😁


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